


Fleeting looks and Stolen Glances

by FanWorks



Category: One Piece
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, ZoSan - Freeform, sanzo - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 17:16:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4928314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanWorks/pseuds/FanWorks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zoro had never really understood the fleeting looks. The stolen glances and shifty eyes that had caught his attention many times lately. When he’d awoken from naps on the deck of the sunny he would notice a certain uncomfortable cook avoid his casual gaze</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fleeting looks and Stolen Glances

Zoro had never really understood the fleeting looks. The stolen glances and shifty eyes that had caught his attention many times lately. When he’d awoken from naps on the deck of the sunny he would notice a certain uncomfortable cook avoid his casual gaze. He wasn’t as dumb as everyone thought; he’d feel eyes burning on his muscular body when he was training; the sweeping glances that would make the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. 

Ever since he’d saved the stupid cook’s life on thriller bark he’d been receiving these ‘please don’t notice I’m looking at you’ glances from the blond. Zoro shrugged it off, he assumed it was because the chef was pissed that he’d knocked him unconscious. He didn’t mind it though, for some reason it had given him the feeling that he needed to work harder, deep down the swordsman wanted to impress the onlooker; but he would take that secret to his grave. 

The truth is: Sanji had no idea why he was doing it. He didn’t even realise what he was doing until his soft blue eyes found the green of the marimo’s hair, or the scarred skin of his muscular chest. He would look at the swordsman’s perfectly formed body, beads of sweat rolling down his chiselled biceps and forming perfect droplets on the deck below. He could hear the deep grunts resonating from the green haired man as he pushed his body to the limit… 

By this time he’d noticed where he was looking and quickly shot his eyes down to the floor and hurriedly walked off to the kitchen to cook or fetch drinks or something.  
He decided instead to make his way to the bathroom and he splashed cold water on his face and looked up at himself in the mirror. He had no idea what had gotten into himself lately, he couldn’t stop thinking about the shitty marimo; he sighed and put it down to fatigue as he drudged his way back into the kitchen to prepare dinner for the crew.  
The blond heard the door swing open as Zoro marched his way into the kitchen, but before he could utter any words of why he was there in the first place Sanji interrupted him.  
‘Get out shitty marimo dinner’s not ready.’

The swordsman was slightly surprised he hadn’t expected such a callous remark, but then again this was the shit cook what had he expected? ‘What did you call me curly brows?’ Zoro teased trying to get a rise out of the man. 

‘You heard exactly what I said, now get out.’ The skilled chef replied flatly, knocking down any chance of a fight the swordsman hoped to inspire.  
Zoro left the kitchen defeated he walked over to the edge of the deck and sat down in thought. Something was definitely not right with the shitty cook. He would never normally turn down a fight like that. Zoro was determined to fix him, not only for his pathetic sparring partner that was never afraid of a fight, but Zoro was worried about him too. He had always cared about Sanji (not that he’s willing to admit) but ever since he can remember he’s genuinely been concerned about the cook, and his little stunt in thriller bark really pissed off the swordsman, trying to throw away his life like that! For Zoro of all people! Zoro decided it was best to let it go and took a late afternoon nap. 

Sanji watched him through the window of the kitchen. Sleeping. Like always. What a lazy marimo. He took out his pack of cigarettes and let one hang from his lips as he lit it up. He couldn’t help but stare. The green haired man was perfect. When he trained. When he fought. When he ate. Even when he slept.  
Sanji called the crew in for dinner and they ate like always; incredibly loud and rowdy. Luffy tried to steal all the food and Sanji kicked his head in… again...like always. Zoro couldn’t help but feel more at ease seeing the cook in his normal way, but there was still something different about the cook, something was… off, and the green haired man was the only one who could see it. He was determined to find out what it was. 

After the rest of the crew had eaten Sanji started to wash the dishes. The swordsman didn’t budge. He sat silently in his chair at the table. An uneasy feeling swept over Sanji; he could feel the eyes on him, feel the hair on the back of his neck as he washed the dishes. The silence lasted some time and Sanji had nearly washed half of the dishes.

‘You could get a towel and dry these dishes you know.’ Sanji finally said sounding sarcastic and overly unimpressed. The moment he uttered the words he regretted it, he regretted that he might have angered the swordsman and cause him to leave. The truth is the blond enjoyed the company, even if Zoro said nothing he could sense his presence and it gave the cook a strong feeling in his chest.  
Zoro took a heavy breath and stood up; Sanji thought for sure he would leave, but he didn’t. Zoro picked up a towel from the bench top and started silently drying the dishes next to him. The chef felt the heat radiate from the broad shoulders of the swordsman and he felt a growing sensation in his stomach. What was it? Butterflies? Was he nervous at the feeling of Zoro’s steaming hot body just inches away from his own? Ridiculous! 

Sanji’s heart started to beat rapidly. How could this be happening? He’s fucking Black Leg Sanji! He is a ladies man! He is most definitely NOT falling for a muscly brute like Roronoa Zoro! And just as he was thinking, Zoro reached out to grab the plate from his hand and their fingers brushed ever so lightly, but it was enough for Sanji’s heart to jump out of his chest. He jumped and his slippery fingers released the plate and…SMASH! 

Just at that moment Sanji had let a plate slip out of his fingers and shatter to the ground. Zoro turned to look at him and the cook stood frozen, staring up at the swordsman, he had never noticed how deep Zoro’s eyes were before. Sanji turned a deep shade of red as he realised he was staring straight into the muscular man’s eyes.  
‘Shit’ he mumbled and hurriedly kneeled down to clean the up the broken porcelain shards and hide his now tomato red face. He reached out and grabbed at the shards with his shaky hands and ended up fumbling with the sharp pieces. 

Zoro kneeled down beside him and swept his calloused hands over the floor picking up a large number of shards in one go. He didn’t remember the cook being this clumsy.  
‘Shit’ Sanji repeated as the sharp splinters dug into his hand and it dripped blood onto the floor of the kitchen.

‘What the hell cook?’ Zoro exclaimed grabbing the blonde’s bloodied hand. 

Sanji pulled his hand away from Zoro’s ‘I’m fine it’s just a stupid cut’. 

‘Stupid cut my ass, you’ll need stitches!’ 

They both knew it. They could tell a stupid cut from a bleeding wound. They had been around enough blades their whole lives to know the difference. 

Zoro grabbed Sanji by the non-injured hand and half lead, half dragged the cook into chopper’s medical room, and nearly threw him into the small reindeer.  
‘Sanji! What happened to your hand?!’ chopper shouted as he rushed over to see the injury. 

The chef was embarrassed, the swordsman could see his usually pale face going a darker shade of pink every second. He didn’t want to admit that he clumsily dropped a plate and hurt himself trying to pick it up.  
‘The dumb cook called me a shitty marimo’ Zoro replied for him. 

Sanji looked up at Zoro, with what Zoro could only assume was confusion.

‘Zoro! I’ll fix Sanji’s hand but I don’t want you to fighting anymore do you understand!?!’ chopper yelled at the marimo, slightly horrified that Zoro would injure a member of the crew. 

‘Mmph’ Zoro replied in agreement. 

Sanji never realised how deep Zoro’s voice would go when he made sounds, it was like he was hearing his voice for the first time and it made him feel those little butterflies fly around in his stomach again. He loved the feeling. He couldn’t help but want more. More of Zoro, more of the way he held his hand and led him here. More of the way he stood unnecessarily close to him in the kitchen, more of the way a single sound could make the cook’s knee’s weak. More of the way Zoro’s strong arm wrapped around his waist and lifted him to his feet. More of his smell; like sweat, grass, steel and oil, but something about it made it smell like Zoro. Something about Zoro made the cook feel like wrapping his arms around his muscular shoulders and just the thought sent a chill down Sanji’s spine. By the time the blonde realised that he had in fact been lifted to his feet and led back to the kitchen it was too late. 

Zoro knelt down on the floor and cleaned up the rest of the broken shards and blood as Sanji watched his every movement from the table. He felt slightly lightheaded and he wasn’t sure if it was from the fact that Zoro had touched him or the medication chopper had administered him. 

‘It’s not like you to be so quiet cook’ Zoro said calmly without looking up from the floor.

‘Yeah, well it’s not like you to give a shit.’ Sanji snapped back, suddenly defensive. ‘Now get out of my kitchen so I can clean up better!’ the blond lightly kicked the swordsman who looked up from scrubbing the floor. 

He stood up ‘Not until you tell me what’s gotten into you!’ Zoro spoke loudly, his voice absent of all the emotion Sanji was used to hearing. Instead another emotion was present, one he never thought the marimo was capable of. He heard concern, and little wisps of what you might call fear, but he knew Roronoa Zoro never got scared. 

‘Nothing’s gotten into me stupid moss head!’ Sanji snapped back quickly again. 

‘Oh yeah? Then why have you been avoiding me?!’ Zoro shouted at the blond ‘Why have you been staring at me? Why have you been refusing to fight me!? Why have you been acting so weird?!’ 

Sanji froze. He didn’t know how to respond. All of what the moss head said was true; he couldn’t deny it. But he couldn’t tell him the truth. What was he supposed to say? Oh by the way you’re hot!? Nope. He looked down and blushed. Just thinking about Zoro’s hot muscles made the room gain a few degrees. 

Zoro was still staring at him waiting for a response, but he couldn’t give one. Sanji sighed painfully, he couldn’t put it into words, he knew the swordsman would reject him, knock him down, call him names and laugh at him like he always did. But he had to say something. He wouldn’t be able to see Zoro every day and keep his feelings a secret. He put his head in his hands ‘when did everything become so complicated?’  
‘It’s not complicated idiot’ Zoro teased ‘you just need to tell me why you’ve been so worked up lately’ he continued.

‘Fine’ Sanji mumbled almost under his breath ‘I’ll tell you what’s got me so worked up lately’ he paused, and the final word was hardly audible ‘You.’

It was so quiet that Zoro almost missed it, but the still air ensured that he heard it loud and clear. He stared at Sanji, but not his usual scowl-like stare, Zoro stared through Sanji. Sanji was convinced that he was literally melting under the eyes of Zoro; his stomach returned to let him know it existed and was probably doing some form of circus act. Sanji’s face went a deep purple and he looked away breaking the stare.

Zoro took one long step forward and in one smooth movement he grabbed the cook’s chin in is hand and turned Sanji’s face towards him. They were mere inches apart.

Zoro noticed Sanji’s face turn a deep purple, like an eggplant, he wasn’t even aware his pale skin could go that colour. It was exhilarating, and he finally understood. He finally figured out the reason for all the stares, the glances and the strange actions. He knew. It was because the stupid cook liked him. Of course. 

‘Stupid cook why didn’t you just say something?’ Zoro smirked, dark eyes meeting pale blue ones.

‘I- I just-’ Sanji stammered, unable to form words.

The taller man’s smirk fell into a smile, and he brought their lips together. It was a soft, swift kiss; yet it lasted for an eternity. The blonde’s heart was pounding right out of his chest, he had never felt like this before. His entire body felt like it was being stampeded by elephants, yet he couldn’t move, his mind was a balancing act of anxiety and excitement. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t breathe. He moved his right hand to cradle the marimo’s neck and he rested his other hand on the back of Zoro’s shoulder.

Zoro pulled away and stared at Sanji, cupping his face with his large calloused hands. Sanji felt very light headed and his knees grew weaker by the second. Zoro somehow realised this because he moved his hands from Sanji’s face to his waist, holding him up by leaning him against the table. 

They were silent for some time, before Zoro finally spoke. 

‘I couldn’t let you sacrifice your dream, I know how much it means to you.’ Zoro almost whispered.

‘And what, your dream is less important than mine now!?’ Sanji shouted pulling away from Zoro and grabbing out a cigarette with his uninjured hand. 

‘That’s not what I meant!’ 

‘So what did you mean?!’

‘I meant…’ Zoro paused and took a long shaky breath, running his large hands through his hair. ‘I meant, I couldn’t let anyone else I care about die for my dream.’

‘I get it dumbass.’ Sanji chucked ‘and I won’t tell you not to throw your life away like that again, coz I know you will. First fucking chance you get. Just, just remember that people care about you moss brains.’ Sanji looked down and shook his head. 

‘Now get the fuck out of my kitchen so I can clean up this mess you made!’ Sanji yelled.

‘The mess I made? I’m sorry but I remember YOU were the one who dropped the fucking plate and cut his hand!’ 

‘Oh yeah marimo?! Well if you weren’t here in the first place I would never have dropped the plate!’ 

They stood forehead to forehead inches apart, steam coming out of their ears, glaring daggers at each other. Until Zoro chuckled, leaned forwards, wrapped his hands around the cook’s waist and brought him into a slow kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, First fan fiction EVER!!! So I really hoped you like it! I appreciate constructive criticism.  
> Thanks for reading.


End file.
